


Degrade

by kelseycurtis



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, BAMF John Wick, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fighting, Gratuitous Smut, Gun Kink, Gunplay, Injury, Knifeplay, Murder, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Weapons, slight predator/prey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 22:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20919875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelseycurtis/pseuds/kelseycurtis
Summary: John Wick is a legend in his field of work and the assassin world is large and ever growing. Your father hosts an arena fight night monthly and has forced John to fight for his life, with multiple prizes for the last man standing. But John has his eyes on another prize.This fic has taken me a long ass time to write, please leave comments, kudos and bookmarks if you like it. I worked really hard on it.





	1. Chapter 1

Readers P.O.V

I finished brushing my hair, having curled it and pulling it all to the right side of my neck. I was giving off that Hollywood starlet look, one that’s murdered two of her husbands. I was ready for fight night. Every month my father hosted a night full of violence. Twenty men were put in the arena and made to fight to the death with only melee weapons. The winner received hospitality for the evening and a cash prize of $100,000. I looked at myself in my full-length mirror and smoothed down my tight fitting, red wine-coloured dress. The neckline was heart shaped and the sleeves were made from lace with small diamonds sewn into the material. The sparkled everytime they caught the light. The skirt of the dress was floor length with a slit in the side that went all the way up to my thigh. Any higher and you'd be able to see my panties. 

I'd gone for a classic smokey eye and dark red lip. I looked and felt good. I left my floor, heading down five flights of stairs with my personal bodyguard, Grayson. He led me to the basement, holding the door open for me. I smiled softly at the gesture. Whilst it was Grayson’s job to protect me, he was still very much a gentleman. He led me to my seat next to my father before standing close by. My father greeted me with a hug and a kiss to both my cheeks.  
“You always look so beautiful,” he spoke.  
I smiled at the compliment before sitting down. My father seemed more excited than usual tonight. I wasn't so keen on the arena fights, but I endured them for him. He gave me no other choice. My father didnt allow me outside or many public appearances, I knew it was to protect me, but I still felt lonely most of the time. 

I knew because of the business he was in it made me a huge target. Thankfully there had only ever been two attempts on my life. I got myself comfortable, crossing my legs. I scanned the crowd bellow who were stood behind the protective barriers, eagerly awaiting the fight. Spotlights were on, darting around the arena floor. I stifled a yawn, already bored. My father placed his hand over mine, practically brimming with excitement.  
“You'll never guess who we got for tonight,” he spoke.  
I didnt care who it was but I would humour him.  
“Someone from the high table,” I partially joked.  
“Better.”  
“Who could be better than the high table?”  
“The Baba Yaga.”

This got my attention. John fucking Wick was here? It wouldn't be willingly. My father had likely had him brought here against his will. Angering John Wick was not something you wanted to do. The last time he got angry he'd taken out Viggo and his son with ease. John Wick was a legend in our line of business, having him here would be an honour. But due to the circumstances I couldn't see this ending well. My father clearly had a death wish.  
“If he wins you know he'll want your head,” I spoke.  
“I can be very persuasive.”  
I hope he knew what he was doing. Because I couldn't see a good end to this evening. The arena gates opened, letting the unlucky fighters inside. Last to enter was John Wick, dressed in an all-black three-piece suit. He scanned the area before his gaze, or should I say glare settled on my father. That glare would strike fear into any man's heart. But not me. He looked almost feral. 

The audience noticed John’s appearance and started going wild. The announcer’s voice came over the loudspeakers, welcoming everyone and starting to list off the names of the men who would be fighting tonight. As he announced John Wick the crowd lost it once more. John did not seem flattered, he just seemed more annoyed. Men began grabbing stray weapons from the floor to ready themselves. John reached for a wakizashi. John Wick preferred guns over blades but I had no doubt of his skill with all weapons. He was one of the best trained killers in the business, he'd even killed a man with something as simple as a pencil. The other men in the arena were either looking to kill John or not get killed by him. I knew some of them wouldn’t dare approach and hoped someone else would finish him off before they had too. Cowards. 

The countdown began and the fighters began to ready themselves. One of the fighters looked ready to practically throw themselves at John. The anticipation of the countdown was getting everyone riled up further. We knew tonight would be a night like no other. There was no way my father would ever be able to top this. As the announcer reached zero the bloodshed began. Men ran at each other and began fighting. A few were taken out easily, not that I was paying much attention. My gaze was fixed on John. I leaned forward in my seat eagerly and for the hopes of a somewhat better view. He stayed where he was and waited for them to come to him, which a few were more than eager to do. The first one ran at him, throwing a few throwing knives. John dodged most of them with ease, narrowly missing the last one.

He advanced on the now weapon less man, thrusting the blade through the man’s chest. His body crumpled as John pulled the blade out before turning to the next fighter. Their blades clashed, John seeming to have the upper hand as he forced the attacker back with his strength. The man tried to kick Johns legs out from under him, but John stepped back in time, letting the man gain the upper hand. John deflected the next attack, forcing the man’s sword from his hands. The man attempted to grab Johns wrist to force his own weapon from him, but John sliced the man’s hand instead. Not giving the man a chance to recover he sliced the man’s stomach open. 

The man sunk to his knees, his hands over the wound as if it would somehow help and keep his entrails inside. His intestines were spilling out the gaps and on to the floor. Another man jumped onto John’s back, stabbing him in the shoulder. John grimaced from the pain but managed to throw the man off his back. He pulled out the knife from his shoulder with a new-found rage. The pain didn’t seem to bother him anymore. He grabbed hold of the man and forced him into a headlock. The man pushed at Johns wrist trying to stop the blade as it continued to inch closer. John’s rage fuelled his strength how gasoline fuels a fire and the blade was soon lodged in the man’s neck. John didn’t stop there, slicing the man’s neck open so he would die faster. John dropped his corpse and picked up the wakizashi once more. And this time John was the one to find an unwilling victim. 

I watched with pure fascination as John continued killing. There was something...arousing about it. He made it look so easy, so effortless. I could watch him for hours. A heat had settled between my legs as I watched him. John had gained a few more injuries but that still hadn’t slowed him down. His fury radiated off him in waves, creating an entirely new atmosphere, everyone felt it. Everyone was watching John, nobody else in that arena mattered. Slowly the number of fighters dwindled until finally there was only John and one other fighter. John was bloody and bruised, not all of the blood his own, but he showed no signs of backing down from the final fight. He was limping a little, much like his opponent. The tension in the arena was thick, who would make the first move? 

John’s final opponent was carrying a machete, the edge serrated so it would do more damage. The silver of the blade was now tinted red from the blood. They stalked over to one another, their blades clashing. There was another power struggle before John began to force the man backwards. I wondered if he was this aggressive with his lovers, this intense. I wondered if he had the same look in his eye. I wouldn't object if John wanted to throw me against the nearest surface. The thought was making me more aroused. I wanted him and I always got what I wanted. The fight was heating up, John was so close to winning now. Just one more. His opponent made a mistake with their footwork and that mistake cost him his life. John swiftly and with one clean cut, behead him. 

The crowd went wild as John was named the winner. John threw his weapon down and turned to face my father and I. His gaze was fixed on me however, that dark, hard gaze. I swallowed, crossing and recrossing my legs. The heat between my legs had grown to an ache. I needed him. John was led out of the arena where he'd be patched up by the doctor. I followed my father down to the medical room to finally meet the Baba Yaga. One of my father’s bodyguards was stood on watch duty in case John tried anything. John was forced into a chair where the doctor began working on him.  
“That was quite a show you put on tonight. It’s been an honour having you here John,” my father spoke.

John didnt reply, he was too busy watching the doctor’s movements. My father poured John a glass of bourbon and handed it to him. It would help take the edge off. John reluctantly accepted it and downed it in one. His gaze returned to me, this time it looked like he was reading me, trying to work me out. I felt a heat on my cheeks and averted my gaze elsewhere.  
“I offer you hospitality this evening. A bed to sleep in, a meal of your choice, company of your choice if you wish for it. I'll have the money ready by morning,” my father explained.  
“No thanks. I'll be going when i'm patched up,” John replied.  
Nobody said no to my father. Not even John Wick.  
“But I insist, your my champion and I wish to treat you as such,” there was a hint of threat in my father’s tone. 

John glanced between my father and the bodyguard who had drawn his gun as if to be more persuasive. John sighed, accepting my father’s offer.  
“I'll be gone by morning,” John bargained.  
“Of course. So what can I get for my champion?”  
“Surprise me.”  
John grimaced as the doctor began stitching up a wound. He seemed to want my father to leave, I couldn’t say I blamed him. My father exited the room, but his bodyguard remained. I stood there awkwardly, I had no idea what to say to John. I stole a glance before making myself a drink. 

“He won’t bother you anymore,” I mentioned.  
John looked over at me, looking me up and down. I'd seen that look countless of times and from any other man I'd ignore it, but not with John Wick. That heat was back between my legs.  
“I'll believe it when I see it,” John replied.  
“He'll take the hint that he's pissed you off. Understandably so.”  
I motioned to my father’s bodyguard that he could leave. Perhaps then John would feel more comfortable. John seemed surprised that I was comfortable with being mostly alone in a room with him. I suppose with his reputation most women kept their distance. But not me, with his reputation I wanted him to have his way with me. He radiated power.

I wanted John to throw me against the nearest wall and ravage me. I wanted his hands around my throat, his tongue and teeth against my skin. The doctor finished patching him up and began the cleaning process before handing John some painkillers. John studied them with caution before taking both with another mouthful of bourbon. There was a knock on the door before one of my father’s staff entered carrying a garment bag. It was opened to reveal a new black suit. John accepted the suit, changing into it behind a screen. Once dressed he came out from behind the cover. He almost seemed to be waiting to see if something would happen. 

“Am I going to be harassed by everyone tonight?” John asked.  
“That depends on you. People want to meet the famous John Wick. It’s up to you or not if you want to meet them. Perhaps I could...hide you away for the night...in my room.”  
John studied me again to see if my offer and suggestion was serious. It was.  
“I’m not looking to get into any more trouble tonight,” he spoke.  
“Well if you change your mind, I’m on the top floor,” I offered.  
I headed back to my living space. My father had given me a whole floor of the house, bedroom, bathroom, lounge and dining room. It was a such a big space for one person.  
Whilst I was disappointed John Wick had turned me down, I was still feeling somewhat accomplished. I'd at least met the man and seen him in action. Most didnt live to tell the tale.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the smut, thank you to all the people who have left lovely comments and kudos. You've all really helped me finally find the motivation to finish this.

I poured myself a glass of red wine and took a sip, debating what to do with the rest of my evening. I didn’t want to mingle with my father’s guests, most of them were dull and were awful at holding interesting conversations. I couldn’t leave the house; my father wouldn't allow it. So another night if being confined to my room. I sighed, finishing the first glass of wine. I poured myself another, sitting at my dining table with a book. I read through ten pages before there was a firm knock on my door. I marked my page and went to answer the door. Grayson would have come over the intercom if there was a guest. I checked my thigh for the small knife that was hidden there for my protection. I opened the door to find John outside.   
“Is the invitation still open?” He asked.

I swallowed hard, feeling arousal shoot up my spine. I nodded, giving him all the consent he needed. John forced himself into my room, closing the door quickly behind him. He locked it before turning his attention to me once more. He looked ready to pounce, like a spring ready to snap.   
“My father’s guests didnt interest you much?” I asked to fill the silence.  
“No.”  
“Can I offer you a drink?”   
“No thanks.”  
So he wanted to get straight to business. I felt a pang of nerves at what we were about to do. I wanted to make the first move, but I felt frozen in place. Doubt started to creep up on me, making me question this situation. What if John was really here because a hit had been put out on me? 

“I want to search you for weapons,” I blurted out.   
John frowned but didn’t protest, “you know if I was here to kill you, I wouldn’t need a weapon.”  
“Is that so?”  
“You’ll just have to trust me.”  
I considered it, I’d trusted him so far. I still began the search however, just for peace of mind. And perhaps it was a good excuse to get my hands on him. I started off with his arms, working my way in to his chest. Whilst John didn’t have giant muscles bulging all over the place, he was still well toned and defined. John watched me as I continued to ‘search’ him, his expression unreadable. My hands reached his belt, I could stop now, and nothing would happen, or I could keep going. I would never get this chance again, so why not live a little? 

My hands continued their journey south, brushing against something hard. And this was too hard to be his cock. I ignored the stab of fear at the realization that he had a gun.   
“You’re really taking that saying of, ‘do you have a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me’ to a new level,” I joked.  
John chuckled at this and it truly was a beautiful sound. Someone so cold and emotionless could make such a wonderful sound.   
“You know that I’m going to have to confiscate it,” I purred.   
John took on that serious demeanour again, undressing me with his eyes, “then take it.”  
I bit my lip at his words. I unbuckled his belt and loosened his suit trousers. I knelt before him as he took the concealed gun in his hands. Just a simple pistol but I knew if he’d been caught with it by anyone else, they would have gotten the wrong idea. 

I pressed my lips to the cold metal of the barrel, leaving a small red lipstick mark across the shiny silver. John watched me with pure fascination, its not often a girl would perform oral on a gun. But I liked that danger. And he’d wanted me to trust him. My tongue pressed against the barrel, tasting the metal before I dragged it upwards as if to clean the lipstick mark. I noticed the way his jaw clenched, and how his eyes darkened with that primal lust. I took the barrel in my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat. The safety was still on so there was no risk of having my brains blown across the floor. I continued sucking on the barrel as if it were his cock, hollowing my cheeks and my tongue laving the underside. John was hard, probably painfully hard at this point. It was tempting to take his cock out and suck that instead, but it was more fun seeing how aroused I could make him first. 

I heard the click of the safety coming off, my eyes flicking up to meet his. The action made me pause, wondering if this was going to be how I die. So be it. I took the pistol shaft deeper until it hit the back of my throat, the trigger protector pressed against my teeth. There was a hint of a smirk on Johns lips as he continued to watch. I trusted him and the added danger made things more thrilling. John eventually pulled the gun from my mouth, either having had enough or needing more. He gave me his free hand to help me to my feet. He put the safety back on the pistol before dropping it carelessly to the floor. It thumped as it hit the wooden floor. John was on me in a matter of seconds, one hand around the back of my head and the other around my throat in a possessive manner. His lips pressed against mine in a hard, heated kiss. I practically melted on the spot, moaning against his lips. 

He started to lead us backwards towards the dining table. I kicked my heels off so I wouldn’t stumble and fall blindly. The hard-wooden table hit the small of my back and John hoisted me on to the surface before positioning himself between my legs. The hand around my neck didn’t move at all, keeping me still and acting as a reminder of my place. Of my lack of power in this situation. But with John, I wanted to be helpless. He nipped at my bottom lip before kissing a trail from my jaw to my neck. Only then did he take his hand away only to replace it with his lips and teeth. I was completely at his mercy and he’d barely touched me. At this point I was aching for his touch. John continued to mark up my neck, whilst one hand slowly made its way up my leg. I shuddered from anticipation, my legs spreading a little more as if coaxing him in. His hand continued its ascent, stopping as it found my knife. He pulled it from its hiding place and shot me a questioning look.

“Perhaps I should have searched you instead,” he quipped.   
“You can do a strip search if you like.”  
There was that small smirk again. John ran the tip of the blade along my inner thigh making me shiver from the cold of the metal and the sharpness of the blade. The blade slipped under the waistband of my panties, slicing the material with ease. John did the same on the other side before pulling the ruined material from me. He pushed the skirt of my dress up and around my hips before wrapping his hand back around my throat. John freed himself from his boxers, pressing his hard cock against me. I arched and bucked, desperate for him to fill me. His grip on my neck tightened, silently ordering me to stay still. 

He rubbed his cock against me, coating himself in my wetness. It was maddening, everytime the head of his cock brushed against my clit it left me breathless.   
“Beg,” he growled.   
“Please John. I need it, I need you. Please fuck me,” I blurted out.   
“I saw you watching me in the arena, you liked what you saw didn’t you?”  
“Yes.”  
He continued the slow torture, now pressing the head against my entrance. My hips bucked again, craving more. John’s expression hardened once more, giving me a warning look. I let out a shaky breath, willing myself to stay still. Satisfied, he finally gave me what I needed. John pushed into me with ease thanks to how wet I was. I moaned at the feeling of him filling and stretching me. 

John barely made a sound, the only giveaway to his pleasure is his heavier breathing and how his eyes have darkened with lust. The pace he sets is rough, hard and fast both of us seeking pleasure and release. The hand around my throat doesn’t move, only tightening at times to make me light headed and add to my pleasure. All I can do is moan and curse as I take every single ounce of pleasure that he gives me. It was too much yet not enough. John took my legs and rested them on his shoulders, pressing down to kiss me. I gasped into his mouth as he took me deeper in this position. I gripped the edge of the table, the room filling with the sounds and smell of sex. Thankfully my dining table was a sturdy one. Johns intense gaze returned, it was the same gaze he’d had in the arena. His hair hanging in front of his eyes, his expression hard and determined. 

I untangled my legs from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist. I grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him in for another heated kiss. He nipped at my bottom lip before his tongue was in my mouth. My nails dug into his shoulders although with how many layers he had on I’m sure he wouldn’t be able to feel it. John took the pleasure up another notch as he rolled his hips against mine so that his pelvis was now stimulating my clit. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, his name being moaned over and over like a prayer. My orgasm continued to grow, my legs now shaking from the pleasure. Finally my orgasm crested, and John continued to fuck me through every wave. I cried out before cursing and moaning his name once more. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stand for a while after this, let alone think clearly. John groaned as my walls tightened around him, throwing him into his own orgasm soon after. He bit down on my shoulder hard, his groan muffled by my skin. 

I probably looked a mess, but I couldn’t have cared less. John and I remained where we were, panting and coming down from our highs for a little while. John eventually found the strength to pick me up and carry to my bedroom where he began undressing me completely. Round two already?   
“You know they’ll have heard me screaming right?” I breathed.  
“And they’ll soon hear it again. Perhaps I should gag you if your so worried about it. Besides I think I can make you scream louder than that.”


End file.
